Werewolf Suspense (Book 4): Outage 4 (The Reckoning) by T.W. Piperbrook Page B

splashed with blood. Several unmoving bodies lay on the floor—a man with a hole in his back, a woman with her arms torn off. Screams erupted from distant rooms, but the elevator doors were closed. No sign of Tom or Silas.  
    No sign of any beasts, either.  
    Yet.
    Before they could be spotted, Abraham shut the door. The hinges were weak from the door's being kicked in, but he was able to push it in place. He cast a sideways glance at the broken chair, discerning that it was no longer useful. He darted back over to the bed.  
    "Let's move the bed in front of the door," he told Sally.
    They rolled it across the room, tilting it on its side, creating a barricade. When they were finished, Abraham struggled for breath. His back was sore. Years of manual labor at the sand and gravel company hadn't prepared him for this .
    "Are you all right?" Sally asked.
    "I'll be all right, sweetie," Abraham reassured her. Her concern was a reminder of normalcy in a world that had turned upside down. All the sudden, the hallway fell quiet. Abraham clung to Sally as they waited and listened.
    Katherine opened the cabinet door, poking her head out. She watched Abraham and Sally with a hopeful look that said the nightmare might be over. Abraham hoped for the same, but he wasn't foolish enough to believe it.
    "Do you think they're gone?" Katherine whispered.
    "No," Abraham answered. "We'll have to defend ourselves."
    "I wish the police would come."
    "I do, too. But I doubt they'll be able to get to us," Abraham said, picturing the policeman being tackled out in the snow. "We'll have to depend on each other."
    His thoughts wandered to the school bus. What had happened to the occupants? Hearing nothing in the hallway, he let go of Sally, walked to the window, and surveyed the parking lot. The beast that had fallen out the window was covered in a layer of snow.  
    It serves the thing goddamn right.
    Cold whipped through the broken pane. For a moment, Abraham envisioned another beast scaling the side of the hospital, clawing its way in from the storm. He was pretty sure the things weren't that agile, but that didn't stop him from worrying about it.
    That thought naturally led to another. Should they get out of here? Tie blankets together, maybe create a bridge to the parking lot? Abraham dismissed the idea. The plan was as silly as it was dangerous. They didn't have enough blankets. And besides, he and Sally were in their mid-sixties. Although they were in decent shape, Abraham knew they couldn't attempt a stunt like that.
    It was safer in the building.  
    At least, he convinced himself it was.
    Abraham searched every inch of the room. Other than the screwdriver in his hand, as well as the scalpel and scissors Sally had, there was nothing else that might help them. The room was bare except for a pitcher of water, some spare blankets, and some medical supplies—nothing that could be used as a weapon. A pink, plastic container on the wall labeled "sharps container" caught his attention.
    Needles . Probably used for vaccinations or medicines. He didn't want to touch anything in there. The thought of digging through a pile of used needles was hardly appealing or worth the risk.
    Noticing that Katherine and Sally were shivering, he said, "We should head over by the radiators. At least stay warm."
    They headed over to the window, and Abraham swallowed as a long howl erupted from somewhere deep in the hallways. They'd only had a few minutes of peace, and already the silence had broken.
    Abraham sat on his haunches, hovering next to Sally and Katherine.
    He traded a glance with his wife, their expressions taking the place of conversation. If they'd been alone, they would've traded final words.  
    Abraham already knew what he'd say.  
    Forty years ago, I married my best friend and the love of my life. I've never once regretted that decision.
    But saying those words would scare Katherine. And whether this was the end or not, Abraham wanted to spare the